


Patience and Tonics

by indigorose50



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Friendship, Gen, No Spoilers, Post-Canon, various pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: Ferdinand loses his voice the morning of his birthday. His friends deal with this in different ways.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Patience and Tonics

**Author's Note:**

> Done just in time! 
> 
> Happy birthday to this lovely ray of sunshine who deserves the world. Enjoy some cute and humorous fun times as we watch Ferdinand recover!

The palace infirmary was not where Ferdinand had planned to spend the morning of his birthday. Yet here he was, one hand protectively over his throat and the other rapidly tapping the chair. Linhardt sat opposite him and had not spoken since looking down Ferdinand’s throat. Ferdinand found himself missing Manuela terribly. 

“Well this is interesting,” Linhardt finally said. Ferdinand could find no better way to express his frustration than to glare. “Oh stop it, I’ll explain. Basically, the poison from last night caused damage to your vocal cords.”

Ferdinand did not stop glaring. He had figured that part out already, thank you very much.

Last night there had been an attack on Ferdinand’s life in the form of poison in his nightly tea. He had tasted it before much slipped down his throat, spat it out, and called for Hubert. Within the hour, the would-be assassin had been dealt with. 

“For once your obsession with tea has come in handy,” Hubert had said when he examined the contents of Ferdinand’s cup afterwards. “Had you swallowed even this much— well, let us just say your recovery would not have been pleasant or even assured.”

Ferdinand had woken up not being able to say a word, and it didn’t take a healer to tell him why.

“Can you be patient for once in your life?” Linhardt said when Ferdinand frantically gestured for him to go on. “There’s an easy fix. It’s not instant but it doesn’t require me to do constant spell work— so I guess it’s more like it’s easy for  _ me _ .” Linhardt stood and made for the cabinet next to the desk. “I’ll give you a tonic. You should be able to speak by the end of the day.”

_ End _ of the day?! Ferdinand thumped his fist against the desk. A whole day— a whole  _ birthday _ — without being able to speak?! He ran both hands through his hair. So many people were in the palace just to celebrate his birthday and he couldn’t express his thanks to any of them. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The one year anniversary of the war’s end was in a week. Many people had shown up early to spend Ferdinand’s day with him but their motivation partly stemmed from having to be here anyway.

Still! He aimed a helpless look at Linhardt as he handed over a bright pink bottle. “Well, that’s about all I can do.” Linhardt said, gathering his notes with a yawn. “Come to me at the end of the day so I can check that it worked. Or just yell really loud and I’ll get the idea.”

Ferdinand drank the tonic. It was overly sweet and made him purse his lips. Pouting, he stood, bowed his thanks to Linhardt, and left the infirmary. He was just wondering how to convey his current ailment to people when a hail from down the hall caught his attention.

“Ferdinand! I thought we were having tea together this morning!” Mercedes smiled warmly at him as she approached. “Oh, you were in the infirmary. Is something the matter?” Her smile fell into a look of concern. 

A wave of exhaustion hit him. Ferdinand was going to have to find a way to explain this to  _ everyone _ he came across today. Resigned, Ferdinand tapped his throat, opening and closing his mouth without making a sound. 

“Do you have a sore throat?”

He held his thumb and pointer finger close together without touching.

“You can’t speak at all?!”

He nodded. 

“Oh you poor thing! I bet this has to do with that poison last night, doesn’t it? And on your birthday too…” Mercedes stood straighter, an encouraging smile lighting up the hallway. “Well then, we will just have to keep you away from situations where you would have to talk. How about you come with me to make your birthday cake? If you leave before we actually decorate, it can still be a surprise.”

Ferdinand beamed his agreement. Giggling, she hooked her arm around his and started leading them down to the kitchens. Trust Mercedes to find the bright side of any situation. Part of him wanted to ask who she meant by “we” but the rest of him was content to let her hum quietly at his side.

They passed a few people on their way through the palace but a few words from Mercedes was all it took to avoid conversation or explanations. Some wished Ferdinand a happy birthday, and he was able to just smile and nod at them in thanks as Mercedes hurried them along. 

The only person they stopped to explain the situation to was Petra. “You will not be speaking all day?” She asked with raised eyebrows. Ferdinand grimaced in response. “I will be telling my wife, then. That way she will not be tempting you to sing today.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small bottle. “Tilt your head back,” she ordered. 

Perplexed, Ferdinand did as he was told. He felt her place three dots of paint on the base of his throat. “There! A prayer to the spring wind for recovering quickly!” Ferdinand lowered his head in time to watch her wipe blue paint from her fingers. He put his hand over his heart and bowed low to her, genuinely touched to be graced with a prayer from her home. Grinning, Petra kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, my friend.” With that, she went on her way. 

By the time they reached the kitchens, Ferdinand had completely forgotten about the ominous “we” Mercedes had referred to before. He was abruptly reminded when he saw Lorenz standing at the counter before a case of different tea leaves. “Ah, the man of the day!” Lorenz chirped when he spotted them. “Are you here because you slept through breakfast? Even nobles should not be so lazy on their birthdays!” Ferdinand looked pleadingly at Mercedes, who pat his arm reassuringly as she untangled herself. 

But even after getting the full explanation behind Ferdinand’s absence and his quiet, Lorenz did not let up. “Would you want the rose cake as a second layer?” Lorenz asked him as he sifted through the tea box, “or would the fruit blend be better?” 

Ferdinand picked up the box of Almyran pine. Lorenz scoffed. “But it’s so bitter! Why have that in the middle?” 

Ferdinand ached to say having a somewhat bitter flavor between two sweet ones would be a nice balance. But the most he could do was shove the box of pine into Lorenz’s hands, insistent. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather use bergamot instead? At least  _ that _ flavor would be tolerable.”

“It’s Ferdinand’s birthday cake, Lorenz!” Mercedes called cheerfully from the other side of the kitchen. “Ferdinand, come here and help me cream the sugar and butter.”

Even with the constant questions Ferdinand couldn’t give adequate answers to, getting to do something with his hands was a nice way to pass the time. He helped Mercedes with the cake batter and reigned in Lorenz’s flavor choices for the better part of two hours. 

The best times were when he could just listen to the two converse. Lorenz talked about how he couldn’t wait for Lysithea to arrive in a few days and Mercedes told stories about the orphans she and Annette looked after. Ferdinand smiled at them as he washed bowls. The two got along so much better these days. 

As the cakes cooked, the three sat for brunch and tea. Only once the cakes were out and cooling did Mercedes shoo Ferdinand out. “If you need any help, just come right back here,” Mercedes said in a motherly tone. 

“But knock first!” Lorenz added. “Your cake will be the most elegant one yet and it must be a surprise!”

Smiling, Ferdinand put up his hands in surrender and left the kitchens. Now that he was without the constant chatter, he found himself quite lonely. What was something he could do in silence?

Eventually his feet carried him to the training yard. That was a good idea— there was no need to talk if he had a lance in hand. 

Just as Ferdinand made it to the weapon rack, he spotted Sylvain sparring against a practice dummy. Ferdinand picked up a training lance and, thinking he could ask Sylvain for a proper fight, approached him from behind.

Amateur mistake.

Sylvain must have sensed someone at his back because just before Ferdinand was in arm’s reach, Sylvain spun around and aimed the business end of his lance under Ferdinand’s chin. “Whoa, hey, don’t do that!” Sylvain lowered his lance. “Why didn’t you say something? I had no idea you were there.”

Ferdinand tapped his throat and shook his head.

“Something stuck in your throat? No? Uh, you ate something you’re allergic to? Not that, okay. You haven’t had tea yet so your mouth is dry! You have allergies! You got your own hair caught in your throat!”

Ferdinand, who had been miming desperately to make Sylvain get the point, dropped his head into his hands and let out a long sigh. 

After a moment of exasperation, the sound of Sylvain’s laughter made him look up. “Sorry! I couldn’t help it, you just looked ridiculous!” At Ferdinand’s glare, Sylvain stopped laughing. Though he still looked amused. “Dorothea told me what Petra told her. I know you can’t speak today.”

In response, Ferdinand fell into a defensive stance with his training lance, quirking an eyebrow at Sylvain. To his dismay, Sylvain shook his head. “Sorry, but that’s not a safe idea. You can’t call a halt or tell me if something’s wrong. You should probably take the day off from training.”

That did make sense. Still, it was not what Ferdinand had wanted to hear. His shoulders dropped as he moved away to put his lance back. 

“Come on, don’t look so down,” Sylvain said, clapping a hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder. “If you want something to do where you don’t have to say a word, I know just the person you should see. I wonder if you know her— absolutely beautiful, kinda shy, great writer, head of House Varley, happens to be my fiancee?”

Ferdinand rolled his eyes affectionately. The way Sylvain spoke of Bernadetta was simultaneously heartwarming and disgustingly sweet. 

The two made their way to Bernadetta’s rooms. Sylvain wasn’t nearly as graceful with deflecting questions from passersby as Mercedes— mostly he just pulled Ferdinand along — but it got the job done. 

Once at Bernadetta’s quarters, Sylvain explained what was going on. “I’m almost jealous,” she confessed after Sylvain left to spar with Caspar. “You have an excuse not to have to talk to anyone! If I were you, I’d just hide away in my room all day.”

He gave her a look that made her fidget. “Y-Yeah, I guess I do that anyway. Well, come in. I was just reading. Edelgard let me borrow one of her old childhood story books.”

Bernadetta’s quarters always felt warmer and more comfortable than even Ferdinand’s own rooms. She curled up on the bed next to an open book. He settled next to her and tapped the page. “You want to read it?” He shook his head and pointed at her. “M-Me?! You want  _ me _ to read to you?!” Ferdinand clasped his hands together, smiling gently. “Oh fine! But only because it’s your birthday. Don’t get mad if I mess up the voices!” Blushing in embarrassment, she pulled the book into her lap. 

Ferdinand leaned against her shoulder, waiting for her to find her place again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been read to and was strangely excited. 

Bernadetta cleared her throat and began: “‘Mist needn’t have pointed. A bright golden light had shot through the canopy of the forest. Their mother’s song grew louder, and the gloom that had soaked so thoroughly into every tree, plant, and animal around them was washed away by the golden waves. The siblings stared around in amazement as the forest transformed before their very eyes.’”

The characters seemed slightly familiar. Perhaps Ferdinand had also heard this story when he was younger. With every passage, Bernadetta grew more comfortable reading aloud. Ferdinand slipped further and further down the bed until his head was resting against the pillows. Though Bernadetta messed up a sentence every once in a while, it really was soothing to just lay there and listen. 

The last thing Ferdinand remembered was the group of mercenaries reaching the Marhaut range. After that, the pillows became too soft to resist...

* * *

A loud knocking woke Ferdinand with a start. He sat up, staring around, trying to remember why he wasn’t in his room. Beside him, Bernadetta was lying on her back, the still-open book pressed against her stomach. Ferdinand shook her when the knocking on the door started again. He wanted to tell her it would be improper for him to answer her  _ bedroom door _ , but he settled for pointing frantically at the door when she finally opened her eyes.

“J-Just a minute!” She called. She bookmarked the page and tried to jump out of bed, but her foot caught in the blanket and she fell to the ground with a comical “ _ OOF _ !”

Ferdinand smothered his grin in a pillow. The door opened just as a red faced Bernadetta stood back up and threw the book at Ferdinand. 

“Is that any way to treat Her Majesty’s property?”

Hubert had apparently had enough of waiting. He scowled at the pair from the doorway. “Y-Y-You’re right! You’re right. I’m sorry.” Bernadetta hurriedly grabbed the book and placed it on her nightstand. “Um, d-did you need something, Hubert?”

“I’ve come to fetch you both. The festivities are about to begin downstairs.”

Ferdinand cocked his head and tapped his own lips.

Hubert, to Ferdinand’s relief, nodded. “Everyone has been told of your condition. If anyone still pesters you— say, for example, a purple-headed, ex-Alliance  _ headache _ — simply let me know and I shall take care of him.”

It must be Ferdinand’s birthday if Hubert was offering to make threats on his behalf instead of threats  _ at _ him. Ferdinand got off the bed to stand beside Hubert. They both looked to Bernadetta. 

“Y-You know, I think I’ll just stay in tonight,” she said. “No offence, Ferdinand, but all those people and, you know, s-someone should make sure nothing else happens to Edelgard’s book! And, um…” she trailed off when Hubert and Ferdinand both crossed their arms and looked expectantly at her. “Oh  _ fine _ .” 

“You’ve been getting better at socializing,” Hubert pointed out as he led the pair out of Bernadetta’s room. “Surely a night with friends is easier than the meetings you must attend as head of your House.”

“It is,” Bernadetta admitted, walking between them, “but that book is so good I just want to keep reading! I think I want to embroider something based on one of the illustrations.”

“Let me guess. You mean the one when Caineghis first transforms?”

“Exactly! You’ve read it to?”

“I used to read it to Lady Edelgard when we were children. It is a striking scene.”

As the two spoke, Ferdinand resolved to borrow this book next. With Edelgard’s permission of course.

The conversation only died down when they reached the main dining room. The double doors were thrown open and people cheered when they spotted Ferdinand. The room was full of friends, as Hubert had said, but Ferdinand still felt Bernadetta tense. It was a dramatic change from dozing quietly in her room just minutes ago. 

Hubert lay a comforting hand on her arm and Ferdinand took her hand to give it a brief squeeze. She aimed a grateful look at them both. “I-I’ll be fine.” To Ferdinand she said, “Go enjoy yourself.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and headed off into the sea of people. 

Luckily, shaking hands, drinking, and dancing did not require being able to talk. Constance led him around the dance floor, commentating endlessly on her own affairs, probably happy Ferdinand could not interject. Caspar challenged him to an arm wrestling contest that resulted in the both of them knocking over Ashe’s mug. The winner was unclear.

Eventually it was time for cake. Ferdinand gave Lorenz and Mercedes tight hugs when he saw it; a three tiered confection covered in pale orange frosting and circled with white cream. Candied flowers dotted the outside, signifying the flavors of each layer. 

It felt childish to sit among his old war friends with birthday candles lit before him. But happiness chased away that feeling. “Make a wish, my friend, so everyone can taste my genius tea-selecting skills!” Lorenz called when Ferdinand hesitated. 

That morning, Ferdinand would have wished to simply get his voice back. Now, however, as he looked around the table— Byleth speaking quietly with Edelgard, Ashe sneaking a bit of food to one of his and Caspar’s cats, Mercedes smiling fondly at Hubert who was glaring at a half-asleep Linhardt— Ferdinand found he had changed his mind.

He closed his eyes and wished to always be surrounded by those who truly cared for him.

With that thought, he blew out the candles.

The double doors banged open. A harried looking messenger came in, eyes widening when they saw how many people were inside. They were carrying a small box. “Excuse me. I have a package here from Felix Fraldarius for...” They squinted down at the scroll in their hand. “Which of you is Ferdinand?”

Without thinking, purely on years of habit, Ferdinand raised a hand and called, “I am Ferdinand von Aegir!”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Linhardt’s muttered “I didn’t mean for you to take me literally this morning” was drowned out by everyone laughing, cheering, or some combination of the two. The messenger was still trying to fight their way towards Ferdinand but Ferdinand was busy being pulled into hugs by almost everyone in the room. 

“Told you to just be patient,” Linhardt said as he cut himself a small slice of cake amid the chaos. 

Ferdinand clapped him on the shoulder. “Linhardt, I shall never doubt you again.” 

That earned him a half smile. “More people should be like you, Ferdinand.”

“Hear hear!” Dorothea cheered, lifting her glass in agreement. Everyone else copied her, some jokingly calling out the horrors of having everyone act just like Ferdinand and others just laughing.

The party carried on with his friends full of cake and good humor.

And Ferdinand had a feeling his wish would come true.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I reference my own fic "Children of Enbarr" why yes I did thanks for asking


End file.
